Mine
by paperspiral
Summary: AOA Sabretooth finds a new play thing. This is an alternate version of both AOA and of my own Emma/Victor series. Thank you for reading!
1. Chapter 1

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

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Errol was a stout man whom Mother Nature had not been kind to when creating his face. The whole left side seemed to droop slightly beginning at the malformed eyelid and ending with a down-turned scar that cut from his bottom lip to his jaw line. He was unusually fidgety and secretive but when he was drunk he became loud, and he was drunk quite often these days.

Already deep into his cups by early evening, Errol caught sight of the familiar blond feral he had most recently began drinking with as the other bowed his head to make it through the low door frame. The lounge was only beginning to draw in customers for the night but the blond had been coming earlier and earlier in the past few months.

"Sabretooth! Saved you a seat, chap!" He slapped the fake leather covering of the stool beside him and made an uninterpretable motion to the bartender to bring his friend a drink.

Creed suppressed a growl but did not bother to hide his glare as he took up the seat offered to him. The squat man was not his friend, but he tolerated the familiarity if only to distract himself from the day's events.

"What's your poison tonight, Sabretooth?" Bartending had been his profession before the rise of Apocalypse, and while Adrian had since lost his taste for serving, it had kept him out of the pens up until this point, so he tried to hide as much disdain as possible from his clients.

"Whiskey neat." Creed grunted sitting heavily on the stool. He was wearing a fresh uniform if only to demonstrate his rank among the other alphas and Prelates that drank in the dark room around him, waiting for the shows to start on the stages positioned at various places throughout.

"No whiskey tonight, sir. Deliveries are being made tomorrow."

"Deliveries?" Errol hiccuped while slamming down his vodka tonic in excitement.

"Gimme a rum n' coke then, dark rum." The other let out a long grumble and hunched over the bar. His right leg was still shooting pain as it was mending a femur fracture and he rubbed it absently with his clawed hand.

"All we have is white."

"Kid, I'm gonna jump over this bar and stomp yer face in if you don't gimme a damn drink." The threat was empty but it expressed enough anger and irritation to make Creed's point. The drink made with white rum was handed to him as the bartender smirked.

"Tell you what, you can have first crack tomorrow." Adrian replied trying to make amends.

Everyone who frequented this particular lounge deep within the heart of Apocalypse's reign would kill for a chance to have 'first crack', in fact there were murders on record over the issue as recently as that year.

Hades Lounge, while not an especially classy joint, with little to recommend itself other than seedy company and close proximity to the barracks, was infamous for a very specific bi-annual shipment. A handful of selected meat from the pens, all young and beautiful in their own ways, were sent over to Hades to supply the seemingly endless demand for nubile skin. First crack was exactly as it implied.

"You always get first dibs, _he__always__gets__first__dibs_ - when's a guy like me gonna get a break, huh?" Errol complained and took another deep sip of his drink.

"If you got money t'pay for your drinks, you've got money to pay for a girl, Scarface." Sabretooth had not come all the way down from his rooms in the citadel to listen to a grown man whine. He finished his drink in one mouthful and slammed the glass down at the bar. "Be seenin' ya tomorrow, Adrian."

"Wait now, come n' have another drink with me!" His answer was the silent sail of the door's curtains reach out and try to keep Sabretooth within their grasp as he walked out.

Appropriately enough, the Hades lounge resided in the bowels of Apocalypse's citadel on the lowest level open to all Prelates before the levels that ran much lower which were off limits by varying degrees the deeper you went.

Creed waited by the bank of elevators at the end of the hall, the golden glow of the lights overhead providing shelter from the otherwise grimy hallway that resembled more of a back alley than the inside of a building.

At the far right a carriage arrived and the doors whispered open. Dr. Henry McCoy stepped out and for a moment the pair eyed each other aggressively. Finally The Beast stepped around him, his expression turning perversely jovial.

"Tell me, my hairy friend, I've heard rumour that we're expecting new play things in the next few days - is it true?"

"I wouldn't know McCoy. Good night." Sabretooth stepped inside the elevator and engaged the panel to take him up to the top floor, letting the doors slide shut against the doctor's frown.

oooo

The differences between Heaven and Hades were many, but while Heaven catered to those of more refined taste and always seemed to have his drink in stock, Creed preferred Hades for the privacy and the women. But here he was, drinking among the bright lights and flouncy dresses. Strangely enough the crowds tonight provided him more privacy than he expected, until an unwanted shadow crept over his shoulder and Candra's tinkling laughter caught his ear.

As one of Apocalypse's horsemen, she held more power than most of the alphas dining and drinking in the room put together. As Apocalypse's hound, he outranked her and she despised him for it.

Candra had been the cause of his broken femur earlier that day when, in her obstinace, she disobeyed one of his more vital orders and the deserted shell of a building had fallen on him. She was on his last nerve standing over him like she was, pretending to ignore him and boring a hole into his back with her stare.

Her elbows slowly met the marble bar his drink was sitting on, and she leaned back, laughing again at some remark made by an admirer. She feigned surprise when she looked over at him but Candra's scent belied her actions.

"Oh, Sabretooth. It's you." Disgust dripped from her voice while she sized him up. Creed continued to stare into the mirrored wall of the bar at his own reflection. "I didn't realise you showed your face in the light. The girls all out of screams for you downstairs?"

"It would be a cryin' shame if somethin' were t'happen to that pretty face of yours, Candy." Resigned to the fact that he would not be getting any peace and quiet that evening, for the second time that night, Creed paid up his bill and stalked out. She made an impertinent noise as he brushed past her, spilling the drink in her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

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It had been three hard days of traveling chained up in the back of the truck. At the outset there had been fifteen of them, now there were twelve. Three had tried to make a brave escape during one of the too few pit stops along the way and were shot down by guards not even 300 metres away. Their deaths kept the rest of the girls in line to be sure.

Emma rubbed her forehead against her bicep, trying to ease her headache. She had lost feeling in her hands and wrists as they were strung up above her head like everyone else. There had been little talking among the prisoners up until that morning, when they were told that the truck was nearly 'there'. The girls didn't know where they were being shipped off to and panic was beginning to set in overriding the exhaustion.

The truck stopped abruptly and the back gate of the vehicle was unlocked. They were ordered to disembark and all the women shuffled, now attached to one another via their wrist shackles, into what looked like a foreboding castle.

The room was dark and Emma shivered in her rags, huddled with the rest of them. A spot light was flicked on and one of their transport guards began unlocking their restraints. A voice beyond the light ordered them all to strip and throw their clothes into a pile against the wall. They all complied as best they could with numb fingers before a hose was turned on them, hitting them with sharp, cold water with a painful force. Even the female guards laughed as the girls screamed and cried out. Finally it stopped.

"We only need ten." The anonymous voice said.

"Guess that means we'll have to find a use for the other two." The head transport guard laughed maliciously.

Emma was the seventh to be chosen, and she wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. She knew what the transporters would do with her if she hadn't been picked, but she didn't know what this unseen man was about to put her through. The last spot hung over the heads of remaining three girls and the tension was killing them. A decision was finally made, payment was delivered, and the unchosen girls were dragged back out into the daylight.

Except for teeth chattering and shivering, the room was silent. It was ten girls versus the man that had just purchased them. He stepped forward into the light and the group shrank back. He wasn't unpleasant to look at, just a bit plain with short cropped brown hair and dark eyes, and it reassured her that he didn't have a perverse glint in his eye. He spoke to their faces and not their naked bodies.

"My name is Cordon. All you need to know is that you work for me now. You're only job is to keep my customers happy and if you can't do that, we're going to have a problem on our hands." He opened a door behind him, light escaping into the dark room. "Now get cleaned up."

Single file, the girls entered the new room which glowed like only heaven could. There were couches and pillows and mirrors everywhere. Feather boas were draped over chairs and make up littered the dressing tables. A pretty, middle aged woman stood in the far corner and beckoned them through another door that lead to a group shower and bathroom where they were each handed a surprisingly soft towel and a wash cloth.

Emma couldn't help but laugh when hot water washed down over her from the shower head. The mood lifted as the rest of the girls made noises of contentment. There were soaps, shampoos and body washes of every colour and smell. One by one as their individual showers ended, each girl was taken off to the side and had wax applied to various parts of her body to remove hair. Painful as it was, it only lasted momentarily.

As they were each instructed to find clothing from the closets in the main room, it became plainly obvious what sort of work they would be performing. Emma waited on one of the couches beside a short red head in pink and black laced boy shorts and matching bra. She chose to remain bare footed and unadorned, but the older woman approached her and handed her hoop earrings and a large set of bangles to place on her wrists.

"I am Bridgette, your caretaker and provider. If you have any questions or concerns you will defer to me. Cross me and I will make your life a living hell." Her response was dead silence. "You may notice there is a large number of couches around you. This is where you will sleep. And eat, and spend a vast majority of your time. Each of you will be immaculately clean and ready to entertain at nine p.m. every evening. Follow me." Bridgette turned stiffly and left through a door by the dressing table mirrors, the silver streaks of hair catching and shining in the bright lights.

The club itself was darker. It was shaped like an L with a main stage at the bend so both sides could view the show, and smaller raised stages with poles were cut into the walls. There were banks of couches placed throughout the floor and smaller round tables and matching chairs made up the space everywhere else. By the entrance there was a bar where a tall, thin blond man was cleaning glasses and trying not to look up. He had a blinking restraining collar around his neck.

Along the far wall Emma could count seven simple doors labelled with numbers and dim lights over each. Bridgette stopped abruptly at the main stage and turned to face them. "Tonight you will be introduced to our clientele." She looked around the crowd to the bar and called out, "Adrian, how many tonight?"

"Only three, miss." The bartender replied, still not looking up, hellbent on having impeccable serving glasses for the evening.

"Tonight is a special night and will never happen again for any of you. Three of our better patrons will chose from among you to spend his or her evening with, and those chosen will do whatever that patron wants." The order sounded threatening. "The rest of you will be serving drinks. You are here to be desired but not touched. Tomorrow will be fair game."

Despite the warmth of the room, Emma shivered and her red headed friend did as well. They exchanged glances of worry then returned their attention to Bridgette as she continued. "Our patrons are not accustomed to hearing 'no'. Only if they are trying to take a service they have not paid for is it alright for you to deny them. They are allowed to touch you while you serve drinks or entertain on the stages. You are nothing more than meat here. If a client wants to take you to one of the rooms, they pay for a drink. One buys them 15 minutes, four buys them an hour. Anything more than an hour and they have to buy an entire bottle. It's very rare to have a patron buy a bottle."

The group was urged back into the previous room, back to the couches. "We only have two girls left of the thirteen we had last year only because we were requested to keep them for a little while longer. You will not find love here. You will not find a saviour to whisk you away from this place. You are here to work and in a year or maybe sooner, when you are no longer attractive to our patrons, you will be shipped back to the pens or be destroyed, whatever your fate was before you came here." The delivery was cold as she glared at them all sitting in fear among the lingerie and sparkling jewelry. Bridgette checked her watch and clucked her tongue. "You have one hour to put your make up on and do your hair. If I'm not pleased you will do it again. If you are not ready for nine, you will be punished. Go." She left them to their own devices and exited back into the club.

It was a perverse game show as the girls rushed towards the five stools in front of the mirrors. The red head grabbed Emma's wrist. "Let's team up." They stood back from the chaos, unable to fit into the counter space by this point.

"Stop!" Shouted a dark skinned woman. She had a deep voice but her skin was pristine and she had the most hypnotizing red eyes. "These two have a smart idea. We should pair up and work with each other. This is not a game. There is no winning here." The cloud of girls slowly fell into groups and the counter became more accessible. Emma plugged in a curling iron and picked out a foundation for her pale skinned friend.

"Hey," said a blond girl from across the room, "if you find a foundation that's right for you, you should write your name on it so we don't have to hunt every night."

"Anyone have a pen?"

"I'm Macy." The red head smiled up as Emma dabbled cover up under her blue eyes. She was fidgeting nervously.

"I'm Emma." The cream was blending in nicely. "I think this is the one for you."

"I like your hair. I always wanted long black hair, but I was destined for frizzy red." She laughed.

"You talk when you're nervous."

"Yeah." She smiled bashfully. The noise in the room was down to a dull murmur now that order had been restored. Bridgette had returned and was walking among them silently observing.

"Don't worry, it's endearing."

By eight forty five, they were all lined up and in the process of being inspected by their caretaker. All the girls passed, some with direct orders to never where a particular shade of eyeshadow ever again or colour of lipstick, but tonight it would do.

Clapping her hands, Bridgette lead them all down a secret corridor that lead around the club to the main stage. Emma could hear the men murmuring behind the curtains and feel the lust coming at her in waves. She wished she had had time to pee before this, as her bladder contracted in anxiety. The curtains opened and the ten of them were told to step forward into the bright lights.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

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Creed could hear the crowd erupt inside the club, he was running late and the fresh meat was already on the stage. He passed through the curtained doorway and saw the masses crammed up against the stage, howling and salivating, generally scaring the young girls to death. The spotlight was harsh on their bare skin and they were backed up as far as they could get from the front of the crowd.

Adrian gave him a polite smile as he wiped down the bar. "What can I get you?"

"I'll take an hour." Sabretooth pulled some folded bills from a pocket on his pant leg and counted them out on the bar. "Gimme that whiskey."

The exchange was made and as Creed sipped his drink and walked closer to the stage, Cordon stepped out with a microphone in front of the girls and welcomed the crowd. McCoy was also sitting back, his eyes skirting over every girl as though he were studying them under his microscope. Cordon pointed out into the crowd to McCoy, inviting him to chose first among the ladies lined up. Henry gave a wide smile that would have appeared pleasant if Creed wasn't aware of the fact that the good doctor was balls mad.

He chose a little Asian girl who shrank back at being pointed to. The crowd cheered like a gaggle of fools, scaring her further. Cordon called out to a young Prelate whose friends jostled him around and gave him a round of slaps on the back and whispered advice. After a bit of debate that was only for show, he picked the long-legged blond Creed himself had noticed. Another idiotic round of cheering from the crowd.

Cordon didn't even need to say anything, he just pointed at Sabretooth with a smile. "Which one would you like, sir?"

If he had been in the mood to chase his dinner, he would have picked the frightened little red head staring out at him wide eyed from behind two of the other girls. He didn't want a girl that would cry for all of it. His eyes traveled across the stage but none seemed to stand out head over shoulders among the others, finally his picked one nearly at random. "That one. I want that one."

oooo

The girls were lead off the stage from behind the curtains and walked back through the corridor into their living space. Bridgette was fussing over the chosen girls, instructing them, bullying them. Macy slipped through a pair of brunettes and wrapped her hand in Emma's.

"I was so scared." She confided, laughing nervously. Bridgette was talking to the rest of them now, directing them to pick up serving trays from Adrian at the bar and to get serving. Emma squeezed Macy's hand reassuringly and passed through the door out into the club, where the men had dispersed into booths and tables and along the bar.

The men were lewd and as she walked from table to table, hands found her ass and thighs. The no touching rule of that night was clearly a joke. Emma was just returning to the bar with empty glasses when an angry roar startled the crowd and room 2 burst open, a harried blond monster seething in its doorway, bleeding profusely from his nose.

Bridgette and Adrian had been talking behind the bar and the man barreled forward and grabbed the older woman by the lapels of her dress, pulling her across the counter.

"We got a problem." He growled through gritted teeth. The dark skinned woman who had restored order earlier in the evening darted from his room and tried to make an escape out into the hallway but cried out as an electric shock coursed through her body, rendering her unconscious. Emma looked down at her bracelets and then back at the door way. They weren't just jewelry, they were restraining mechanisms.

Bridgette scanned around with a bit of fear in her eyes and found Emma. "Please go sit down in your room and I'll have one of the girls come in to tend to your nose. Miranda will be properly disciplined and you can have whatever you want on the house."

The blond dropped her and with another growl, retreated to room 2, the crowd beginning to chatter again. The woman made her way around the bar, recovering quickly, and gripped Emma by her bicep, dragging her back into the common room. She stuffed a first aid kit into her arms and narrowed her eyes at her. "Go tend to him. Make him forget Miranda's insolence ever happened, whatever it takes. I want him HAPPY." A shove back into the crowd and Emma found herself tapping lightly on the door of number 2.

He was sitting on the bed, the covers disheveled. His green eyed glare cut her. Slowly she walked to the bed and opened the kit while sitting by his side.

"I don't need first aid."

"Okay, I'll just wash the blood off." Emma went to the bathroom and moistened a wash cloth while peering around her. The tub was large and immaculate, the tiles impossibly white, the towels freshly cleaned. She took a deep breath, a part of her hating herself for what she was about to do, and the other part realising she had no choice.

Re-emerging into the bedroom she made her way back to him, sitting down into his lap and softly stroking at the drying blood on his upper lip. He watched her warily and she pretended not to notice. "That's better." She finished with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, which made it twitch.

A new knock at the door and Bridgette came in with Macy and two other girls in tow. She seemed pleased to find Emma situated as she was so intimately. "May I offer you one of our other girls for the entire evening, Mr. Creed?"

After a look, Creed shook his head and stood up, causing Emma to stand abruptly so as not to spill to the floor. "Not tonight, I've had enough of yer hospitality for one evenin'."

"A voucher then?" Bridgette pleaded, not wanting to lose a clearly important customer to the establishment.

"Fine. But you owe me three more drinks." He stomped out with her hot on his heels. The girls looked among themselves then moved back out onto the floor. Emma picked up an empty tray at the bar, looking for the dark girl they had called Miranda, but she was no where.

"They brought her to the back." Adrian answered her unasked question and ladened her tray with three drinks, indicating the end of the bar to where they were meant to go.

"Who was that guy?" She risked speaking.

"Victor Creed, he goes by Sabretooth. He's Apocalypse's hound, which is pretty high in the ranks. If you're gonna piss anybody off, don't let it be him...or Dr. McCoy. He went in with one of the other girls or I'd point him out - " The conversation was cut short as Bridgette hissed at them to get back to work. Emma gave a small smile to the bartender and rushed to serve her drinks.

oooo

It was three in the morning by the time the last customer left. It was a busy shift but their work wasn't done. The house lights were turned on and each girl was given a pair of rubber gloves and a set of cleaning equipment. Emma and Macy teamed up again and were designated to clean room 6 and 7 within the hour.

It was when Emma was scrubbing down the already clean tub that Macy finally pipped up. "I don't like it here."

"It's not the greatest, I'll give you that, but at least it's warm and we're relatively safe." She spoke in a whisper over her shoulder.

"Did you see Tiffany?" Macy's eyes widened.

"Who's Tiffany?" Emma shook her head, pausing in her cleaning.

"The little Asian girl with the blue hair? She was picked first by that doctor guy. She had little red welts all over her legs. Apparently he likes to pinch really hard."

Turning back to the tub and shuddering, she tried to refrain from feeling ill at the thought. The pair moved into the bedroom and remade the already folded bed. Bridgette had instructed them all to redo all work in every room every night regardless of whether the room had been used. The light green sheet drifted up into the air as they aired it out and tucked it back under the mattress together.

"I hope we get to eat soon." Both of their stomachs grumbled at the thought of food. They hadn't eaten since the day before last. "So what happened with that guy?"

"Which guy?"

"I swear, Emma, you're completely oblivious. I mean, I didn't mean to offend you, I was joking..." Macy tried to backtrack and started to cringe as she realised she was making things worse.

"Oh, no, I don't know what happened. He didn't talk. What happened to Miranda?"

"The girl?" They really needed to introduce themselves to one another very soon or this game of guess who would get tiresome. "Bridgette and the bartender dragged her back into the common room and that was it."

"I didn't see her back there when I returned the first aid kit." Emma puzzled, finished with her side of the bed, moving back out on to the floor as the other girls were winding up their own cleaning.

Adrian had laid out nine plates on one of the longer tables and was carrying in bowl of rice and a bowl of something brown and fluid. He announced dinner and buggered off. The brown stuff turned out to be a potato curry of sorts and there was just enough for everyone to have a small portion each. Miranda was no where to be found.

The girls ate like wolves and in complete silence and the meal was decimated within five minutes of them sitting down. When Adrian returned, carrying glasses of water, he didn't seem surprised.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

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Candra would not stop watching him and it was beginning to piss him off. The haughty bitch really knew how to get under his skin and stopped at nothing to insult him at every turn. Sabretooth suppressed a growl and went back to searching through binoculars at the battle field below. The Hound and Herald were sent to find a particular mutant whose powers were said to rival those of Apocalypse himself, however after the last week of searching, Creed was beginning to suspect the kid was a rumour sprung up to inspire hope among the pens.

"Do you even know what you're looking for?" She was levitating nearby rocks and trying to balance them on top of each other.

"Yer mother." He adjusted the view finder.

"When will you be setting up that grungy tent for me to sleep in?" The rocks fell as she lost interest.

"I got an idea, why don't'cha do somethin' for yerself?" Finally he tore his attention away from the task he was given and glared at her.

"My hands were not made for menial tasks. You on the other hand, are a dog and will do best to recognize your master." In an effort to remain in control, Creed turned back to his binoculars and gave a last, distracted attempt at finding their target before preparing for nightfall.

With grinding teeth, he set up the tent, plunging the posts into the hard earth with more strength than necessary. It was more of a lean-to than a tent, but he didn't care since he was the one not sleeping at night. Candra complained as she tried to make herself comfortable, then he lay down on the outside to shelter against the wind, only to shut her up. He face outward to keep an eye out for trouble and to save himself from staring at her face while she slept all too peacefully, knowing he would never hurt her while she was vulnerable, on penalty of a long, tortured death.

The wind wasn't terrible however the smell of rotting corpses from upwind was evident to even those without hyper keen senses as his own. He could smell something else too, something closer and more amenable.

A hand snaked through his loose, blond hair upward and Candra propped herself up on one arm. "However," she continued her reproach from minutes earlier, "even a dog is good for some things." Her voice actually purred in his ear.

"My dick wasn't made for such menial tasks as plowin' _you_, Candy." He grinned into the wind, finally able to dish out her own medicine and her fingers turned to claws, pulling his head back at an uncomfortable angle.

"You will regret your impertinence, dog!" She let go by throwing his head back.

"Maybe you'll shut up for a while." Creed muttered to himself, waiting for the night to end so he could return to the Citadel and his own chambers, away from her.

ooooo

All of the girls were awakened at 9am to take birth control pills. After that, they were permitted to go back to bed, or get up as they saw fit. Macy headed back to her couch and let her mop of curls fall over her face as she curled back up into a ball. Emma, now fully awake, decided to get up and take a shower.

Her last client of the evening had been just awful smelling. She still shuddered thinking about him heaving on top of her as she tried not to gag. Thankfully most of the men she had been forced to give herself to were not interested in talking or having her for more than 15 minutes. She had met The Beast, as Dr. McCoy was called behind his back, and it was true that he liked to pinch. It had not been a pleasurable meeting. It appeared that he was going through each girl, trying to find his new toy, last night it had been Macy and her thighs still had harsh red marks all over.

Miranda had not been heard from again and no one dared to ask Bridgette, who seemed to have less patience for them all over the last week. The only decent person seemed to be Adrian, whom they were not permitted to talk to unless ordering drinks.

Emma lathered up a bath poof and slowly set to scrubbing her skin down under the stream of warm water. Her mind wandered, tracing out what her life had become, trying to find peace with it. She thought of the blond haired man from her first night but couldn't remember his name.

The shower ended and she wrapped a thinning towel around her body while she walked to the full length mirrors of the change rooms. She had bruising on her thighs and an oddly placed smudge on her right wrist.

Bridgette appeared behind her brandishing large scissors and a scowl on her face, which did not sit well with Emma. "You all look the same." The older woman muttered and stepped towards her, pushing her down into a nearby chair.

Emma felt the first handfuls of her hair drop to the ground as her head began to feel lighter. A few more butchered attempts at a haircut and she was left with terribly short hair, still wet from the shower.

"There. Now you had better learn to style it." Bridgette tossed the scissors on to a counter and left, still in a foul mood, making Emma wonder if this was some sort of punishment. Looking in the mirror, her eyes welled up. Her hair was a mess and far too short, far too choppy.

Mina, the Russian brunette, found her crying in the shower room. "Oh love," she cooed in her thick accent, "what did that witch do to you? Let me look."

She tilted Emma's face up to the mirror and wiped a few tears away with her thumb before going for the scissors again. The Russian made slow, careful cuts to try and fix the brutal hair cut Bridgette had given her. "There, a little volumizer in the back and you'll look like a little pixie. It's beautiful." She tried to encourage.

Emma wrapped her up in a hug of thanks while Mina patted her shoulder delicately. "Go take another shower now, you're covered in hair." She shooed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

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Emma ran her hand up through her shortened locks. It felt like the kabuki brush she used on her cheeks earlier to apply blush. Macy had nearly cried when she saw her after the second shower, but recovered enough to seem supportive. It was nearly nine and Bridgette was sizing them up again. She stopped, cold-faced in front of Emma and used a finger to pivot Emma's head from side to side to see the hair style. A stiff nod of approval was delivered before moving on and her stomach unraveled.

The girls shuffled towards the door, ready to suffer through another evening of debasement, feigning energy. Emma's tray was wet from washing, it was an unpleasant feeling as it splotched droplets all over her as she moved from table to table. Macy and Mina occasionally flashed her supportive smiles and she echoed them back as the night dragged on.

As she turned around back to the bar, a short, squat man seemed to jump out into her path, making her back up half a step and nearly drop the empty glasses she was ferrying.

"Hello my dear." He croaked, his scar pulling as his smile widened a bit drunkenly.

"Hi. What can I get for you?" Emma smiled falsely.

The man stammered briefly, seeming to need to work up the courage for his proposition, but stopped as a shadow from behind her cast over both of them and someone stood too intimately close to her.

"Sabretooth!" The man shouted a bit angrily. "Don't even - no!" His finger pointed and stabbed at the air fuming. "Not again!"

Emma's eyes had widened with the proximity of the stranger and slowly turned around to see who it was. Her blond giant stood there, ignoring her but glaring down at the man in front of her.

"Don't what?" His voice grumbled deeply.

The short man bit his tongue with a scowl but backed down and dragged his feet back to the bar. Sabretooth's eyes followed him then flicked back to her. "They cut your hair."

Emma's hand absently went to the puff of hair at the back of her head, trying not to step away from him and cause offense.

"You got nice shoulders an' a pretty neck." He still didn't budge.

"Um thank you." She started, unsure of the compliment. "May I get you something?"

"Yeah, " He seemed to loosen up a little. "You can get yer ass into room 3."

She nodded while looking down and placed the tray of empty glasses on the bar, unable to catch the grumbling coming from the man with the scar. Adrian gave her a supportive thumbs up while handing her a whole bottle of whiskey, an empty glass, and an ice bucket.

The door silently clicked behind her as she closed it with a bare foot. Sabretooth was standing in the bathroom ignoring her and washing his face in the sink. Well at least he didn't stink. She set up the alcohol and ice and prepared a glass while he dried himself off on a hand towel.

Emma held up the glass for him as he emerged, which he ripped from her hand. "What should I call you?" She inquired realising that this was going to be the rest of her evening.

"Shut up." He grunted and knocked back the whiskey, handing it back for a refill. Emma bit her lip and went to pour more alcohol for him in resignation. "Creed'll do."

"I'm Emma." She responded quieter this time and handed him back the glass. She was confused, he still hadn't really looked at her. He seemed completely disinterested in her being there to be frank. "Is there something I can do to make you comfortable?" It was a reprehensible line that usually got lewd comments as a result, but it was delivered by Bridgette's instructions when things seemed to stall in the bedroom.

Creed thought a moment, still not looking at her. "Go put on a movie er somethin'." He sighed and walked to the bed, taking off his boots. The smell of sweaty feet escaped but dissipated quickly enough not to make her gag.

The bookshelf was nearly entirely empty save for the first shelf which had a few DVDs and a few well worn erotic novels leaning against one another. The DVDs came to light as porn and she tried to pick the one she might enjoy the most, one that did not have the word 'anal' in the title.

The TV was mounted to the ceiling as was the DVD player. She fiddled with the remote until a picture came on the screen, then she walked to the bed and handed him the remote. Creed took both the remote and her wrist and pulled her on to the bed beside him. His belt was undone and his zipper down but there was no tenting yet.

Stabbing the remote to start the program, he grabbed her and roughly positioned her under his arm. Emma couldn't help herself and started shaking, she was now accustomed to being flung about like a ragdoll, but it was always with some set purpose, this man was unreadable. She didn't know what he wanted her to do now and she was so afraid of doing something wrong and disappearing like Miranda.

They lay there together on the bed for a while, obscene noises coming from the television, but no more movement from him. Emma had her head resting against his chest, trying not to fidget, but then she began to hear soft snoring and she lifted her head to finally look at him.

He was asleep.

She smiled in relief that perhaps this would be an easy night after all and lay her head back down, her muscles relaxing and her body melting into his side as danger seemed to evaporate with his snoring.

oooo

Creed sat up with a start. Loud noises from the bar had his claws out ready to fight. He registered the racket and decided it was a bar brawl and he was in no danger. The DVD's menu screen music was grating on his nerves and he snapped at the girl behind him to turn the damn thing off.

She scrambled to obey him and was half over the edge of the bed trying to locate the remote he had flung off himself when he woke up. He appreciated her bottom for a moment but didn't like the nasty bruising on her upper thighs, just another reminder that someone had been touching her before he got there.

The TV clicked off and she sat back up, holding the remote to her chest waiting for him to snap another command at her. "If anyone asks, we didn't leave the bed all night." Well, it was technically true.

"There's still a little over an hour left until the bar closes." The girl, Emma, responded sounding unsure of her commitment to her suggestion.

Creed narrowed his eyes at her. Now it was a slight against his pride. It wasn't that he couldn't perform, it was just that he was tired, and it definitely sounded like a challenge to him to prove he was capable. "Fine, turn around." He growled and stalked to the end of the bed, pushing her into a position he liked, face down and ass in the air.

He didn't wait for any indication from her that she was ready and pushed hard inside her, the string of her underwear pulled off to the side. She squealed and tried to muffle herself in the bed covers, her fists balling in the sheets.

Creed hadn't been particularly amorous at first, but now he wouldn't be able to stop himself even if he wanted. Emma seemed to have overcome her initial pain and was now propping herself up on her hands and knees, pressing against his thrusts rhythmically and panting heavily, more for his benefit than hers. Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of her short hair and pulled to hear her cry out.

The build up exploded and he needed a moment to recover, using her body for support. The aftershocks of the orgasm lasted longer than he expected, the orgasm stronger, better than many of his last. Creed pulled out and took a deep breath, while she lay down gingerly on the bed on her stomach and watched him, laying her head on her crossed arms.

"What?" He snapped, holding his dick on one hand and running the other through his hair.

"I'll let you use the washroom first." Emma replied, trying to hold his semen inside her without making a mess on the covers.

Creed looked around for a moment. "We still got fifty minutes left. Any more bright ideas?"

oooo

He had to admit, she did have good ideas. Emma wiped a sponge over his back as they sat in the hot water of the bath tub together. Bubbles floated leisurely around them.

"Why did you pick me?" She was beginning to overcome her fears with him and Creed wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.

"Honestly? T'take you away from Errol back there. Guy's a moron, wouldn't know what t'do with a naked girl especially if there was one in front o' him." He leaned back on her, forcing her to stand and step in front of him, sitting down back in the water.

"Well thank you for protecting me from such an unpleasant event." Emma was actually smiling now, sudding up the sponge and wiping it over his abdomen. Sick of her teasing, he grabbed her wrist and plunged it under the water and forced it against his cock, which was hard again.

"Uh-huh."

The sponge was discarded and Emma moved forward, hooking her thighs over his and easing herself down over his shaft. It didn't hurt as bad as the first time, but that was mostly because she could control the depth. Creed leaned back to watch her ride him, she was blushing, rubbing her clit against him on the upstroke.

His eyes finally tore themselves away from her body to look at the door. After a minute, with Emma getting confused and faltering in her rhythm, the door to the room opened wide and Macy poked her head in calling her name.

The bathroom and consequently, tub, was in clear view from the door and Macy went pale, if that was possible, and wide eyed, a small shriek escaping her mouth. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed and after a moment of panic, she shut the door again.

Creed chuckled and used his thigh to prompt her to continue. "I like an audience once in a while." He confided, arms propped up against the sides of the tub, fixated on her again. "Now make it quicker."

oooo

It was some sort of man code, Emma suspected, that had the effect of humiliating the girl even though it was obvious the activities behind closed doors. Sabretooth had left the room while doing up his belt instead of waiting to open the door. She slinked out of the room, the bar dead as the last patrons had left nearly twenty minutes earlier.

He hadn't said anything as he left. He hadn't even looked at her. Somewhere inside her she felt disappointment though she couldn't figure out why.

Emma carried out the half empty bottle of whiskey and the empty bucket of ice. She felt like everyone was staring at her because she had been locked up in a room with only one man all evening.

Bridgette beckoned her over with a finger and demanded to know if her client had left content. She replied that if he hadn't left content, then he had left exhausted and that earned her a smart slap across the face.

"Was he happy or not?" The older woman demanded of her.

"I don't know, I think so. He doesn't talk very much." Emma resisted holding her cheek. Bridgette stared at her a moment longer before throwing rubber gloves at her and turning her away to clean up the room she had dirtied.

"I'm so sorry I walked in on you." Macy rushed in behind her and went straight for the bed to help change the sheets. "Bridgette made me check to see if all the clients were gone."

Emma dismissed her with a shake of her head. For some reason all conversations with the girls devolved into how the sex had been with any particular client and Emma was not ready to discuss her evening with Mr. Creed.

The bathroom clean up went a lot quicker with two people, and the girls made it in time for supper. This time it was a thick soup and bread.

"Emma darling, you're bleeding." Mina purred and dabbed a petite finger into the drying blood on Emma's right shoulder blade. It was hard to see from her perspective, but it looked like claw marks had been left in her flesh. Mina licked her finger delicately, garnering disgusted noises from the far end of the table. "Ah," she licked her lips and little fangs slid out from beneath her lips. "An animal has left his mark, I think. You are a possession now." She smiled coyly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

* * *

Emma touched the scarring on her shoulder for the millionth time that morning. One of the girls who had been remanded to stay behind from the last batch came over. She had been watching Emma all morning with a look of haughtiness.

She rolled her tongue under her lip and said, "Yeah, he does that."

Emma looked up questioningly.

"It doesn't mean anything other than he's marking where he's been, you know, so he doesn't fuck the same girl twice, let others know he's had them." She looked rough but all of the new girls were beginning to take on the same look.

"Veera, is there something we can help you with?" Mina glared while she brushed her hair a few couch cushions away from them.

"I'm just letting her know that she's not special, she's just property." Veera walked away, swirling her glass of water and ice.

"I didn't even feel it." Emma murmured, touching the healing scar again.

"His claws look pretty sharp." Macy was laying behind Emma on the couch with a sleep mask over her eyes and a blanket pooled around her legs.

Bridgette had wandered in from the shower room, carrying the silver scissors with her, another girl fallen prey to her terrible hair cuts. She was glaring over at them before barking, "Stop touching it or it won't heal right!"

Emma's hand dropped into her lap at the admonishment.

"So, how was he anyway?" Mina tucked her feet up under her.

"It was alright. He's rough, it hurt. But he wasn't particularly cruel or gross." She shrugged.

"You're sad he won't pick you again." Mina replied. It wasn't a question.

"We took a nap together, it was nice."

"You think he's hot." Her Russian accent purred. "You think he's attractive."

Macy pulled up her sleep mask with a wry grin on her face, enjoying the teasing. "Is he going to be your prince charming?" She prodded.

"I don't think he's much interested in anything other than sex." Emma blushed.

"He looks like such an animal, all hairy and mean." Macy shivered. "You can have him instead of me on my turn."

oooo

Creed stood silently against the wall of Apocalypse's chambers. He had been invited in but it was without saying that he wasn't to speak. For all intent and purpose, he was a piece of furniture with sharp teeth.

Candra was conversing with Death, who then spoke with Apocalypse, a strange daisy chain way of speaking. Creed folded his arms with a sigh that slipped into a growl.

"Are we boring you, you stupid animal?" Candra shot him a fierce glance. She might have been looking to scratch an itch with him, but she was in love with her master and protected him ferociously.

Creed could only growl in response and flash his fangs.

"Sabretooth, come with me." Death crooked a finger at him and walked towards an outside balcony where the sun shone. Like the dog he was treated, Creed followed. "We have a special assignment for you. We suspect some traitors among the Prelates, selling secrets to the rebels. But before we can cut out their tongues, we need to find them. And that's where you come in."

"Understood." Sabretooth grunted, leaving the balcony and giving a slight bow to Apocalypse before brushing rudely past Candra on his way to the door of the chambers.

oooo

Hades was having a quiet evening, which only meant that half the bar was full. Most of their usual patrons had been dispatched the day before on assignment. Emma found Macy crying softly in the washrooms halfway through the night.

"What is it sweetheart?" She cooed and brushed some wild red hair back.

"I'm just sick of their touching. Can't they just leave me alone so I can do my job already?" Macy shouted. In light of their situation, the request was unreasonable and she knew it, but it wasn't without understanding when Emma replied.

"They only want to touch you because you're so beautiful."

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired I guess." She apologized as she dried her tears and fixed her make up in the mirror.

"It's okay, you take another minute and I'll meet you back on the floor." Emma gave her a squeeze and exited back into the noisy bar.

Adrian called her over and pushed a full tray of drinks towards her telling her the table numbers and the drink orders. She felt a warm looming presence standing behind her as she did many nights. She did not, however, expect to see Dr. McCoy staring her down when she turned around.

"Oh dear, those are very interesting markings on your shoulder, Emma? Was it? I would very much like to inspect them." He grinned darkly.

"Of course doctor." She turned back to face the bar hesitantly while his hands marched up her bare skin and softly touched the healed markings.

"Oh my, what a terrible animal to have done this to you." His hot breath hissed in her ear.

"I didn't even feel him do it, actually." Emma swallowed as she felt his fingers push into the skin around her scars.

"What a shame." She thought she heard him murmur. "May I borrow you for an hour?" His money slipped across the bar towards Adrian while Macy emerged from the ladies room.

"My pleasure." Emma tried to smile, following him to one of the rooms without a lit up sign above it. She watched Macy give her a worried look and pick up the tray she was suppose to have taken.

"Please sit." McCoy offered the end of the bed while he stood, unbuttoning his shirt. He made room beside her and turned her away from him to get another look at her shoulder. "It doesn't seem infected. Is it tender?"

"Not so much anymore." She whispered.

"Victor Creed is quite an animal, isn't he? It must have been dreadful." He cooed.

Emma had made a promise to herself to never talk about one client with another, in the event that she got herself into a lot of trouble one way or another. She pressed her lips together and didn't respond.

"But maybe you like a savage lover?" McCoy played lightly with the hair at her temples, brushing a finger over her cheek.

"I think you misunderstand, sir." She started. "I don't prefer one thing over another, I'm here to work, that's all."

"But did you like him touching you with his filthy hands? Did you enjoy it when he ripped at your clothing and forced himself inside of you? As he held you down while he heaved over top of you?" His fingers had entwined themselves deep in her hair and was twisting it to cause pain.

"You're hurting me." Emma cried out.

"I haven't even begun to hurt you, my love."

He was brutal, more so than he seemed to imagine Sabretooth had been. With his own claws he shredded her lingerie and forced her down on the bed so that sheets were crammed into her mouth suffocatingly. A pinch came on her upper thigh that made her squeal, and then second one on her labia, which seemed to hurt so much worse. Fingers plunged inside of her roughly without regard to her well being.

So help her, she had begun to cry into the duvet, which only made her breathing more difficult. She was flipped over on to her back and McCoy straddled her hips. He grabbed her chin to centre her face and began punching. Thankfully her instinct was to turn away and shield herself and the blow landed into the side of her head and not her face. The second punch was much luckier and caught her chin. The third hammered down on her cheek.

Finished with her face, he began raining down punches to her gut and kidneys as she tried to roll away. Emma nearly got off the bed but was easily pulled back again and he raked his claws over her chest.

"Well that was lovely foreplay." McCoy breathed savagely, his dick unable to be contained in his pants any longer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

* * *

Bridgette had moved her during the early morning hours when the rest of the girls were sleeping. She seemed to know that this would happen and had locked Room 6 up with Emma still inside once Dr. McCoy had left after his hour. Unable to handle whatever hot mess the girl would have melted into, she sent Adrian in to make sure that this one was still alive.

Adrian found Emma alive but unconscious. She was beginning to come around as he wiped the blood off her face gently. "Is he gone?" Her bottom lip quivered.

"Yes." He continued to wipe her forehead.

There was so much she could have said; why is there so much blood?, I hurt, is anything broken?, I wish I was dead...instead she said, "Is it still busy?"

"It's starting to die down." He smiled, finished with doing a poor job of cleaning her off. "You're going to stay here for a little bit. If you can get up, you might want to take a shower. Bridgette will help you to the infirmary after the girls go to bed. She doesn't want anyone to get freaked out."

Emma's hands went to her face and she touched it delicately.

"It's not that bad." Adrian tried to reassure her. "I'll come back with some clothes for you to wear."

Leaving her on the bed, she heard the lock turn behind him. She felt pretty torn up between her legs. It hurt to breathe. There really was a lot of blood on the sheets. Slowly she sat up, avoiding sitting directly upright. The first steps toward the bathroom were ginger and dizzy. Emma avoided looking in the mirror and went straight to the tub where her hands slipped on the knobs. She tried again and adjusted the temperature to suit her.

God, there was so much blood.

oooo

Emma lay on her less painful side on the cot in the hospital wing. Bridgette sat stock still, reading from a book she had brought, waiting for the doctor to arrive. Emma could see everyone in the large room through the curtain of her space, just as everyone could see her. She pulled the white sheet up to cover her nose.

Finally, a doctor and two nurses appeared through her curtain. He didn't apologize for taking so long, instead got right to business. The nurses stood around the bed and held up a long sheet to block the patient from the rest of the patrons. She was told to lie on her back and open her legs.

The doctor pulled out a flashlight and began palpating her labia with a gloved hand. "She'll need stitches." He muttered to Bridgette, reminding Emma once again that she was property, not a person. Before bothering to finish his physical exam of her, he threaded a needle from an operating package, filled a syringe with anesthetic, and began to sew her wounds closed. Emma couldn't help by cry in humiliation.

The exam continued after twenty minutes. She had no broken bones, only deep bruises and cuts. McCoy had actually tried to bite the scars on her shoulder off, leaving a bloody piece of flesh, mangled beyond imagination in its wake. The doctor applied bandages and sent them on their way, moving on to the next bed.

As they left to return to Hades, Bridgette began instructing her on where she will be staying while she healed, and that she was not to interact with anyone while in isolation. The elevators brought a car to their floor to ferry them back down below.

oooo

The next night, Creed felt like celebrating his new commission. In good spirits, he drank at the bar alone. Adrian continued to fill his cup without being asked and the bar was sparse compared to most nights. The girl beside him smelled heavenly.

"Yer gettin' sparkles on me." He grunted.

"I'm sorry, it's this damn lotion they make us use." Mina replied and traded an empty glass for a full one with the bartender.

"You got 15 minutes?" Creed indicated to Adrian to put it on his tab and walked into the first available room, expecting the girl to follow him. Without hesitation, he leaned up against the same wall as the door and unzipped the front of his pants. Mina understood and grabbed a pillow to cushion her knees while she freed him from his underwear. "Where's that friend o' yers?"

"Which one?" She hummed on the tip of his penis.

"With the short hair."

"Emma?"

Creed grunted in confirmation.

"Well, I could tell you, but then I wouldn't be giving you a blowjob." Mina sat back waiting for him to make a decision. After a heartbeat, he forced her back on his cock.

He only needed seven minutes so Mina used the last eight to answer his question from earlier. "I haven't seen her since the day before yesterday. She had an unfortunate run in with a client and I'm told she was in hospital yesterday."

Creed offered her a cigarette, to which she accepted after reapplying her thick red lipstick. "McCoy?"

"I'm not at liberty to say...but _da_." She inhaled and bounced her leg on the other. "You like her?"

"I don't like anyone." He replied irritably.

"Then why did you ask?" The stream of smoke danced from her lips into the air.

"Makin' conversation." Creed stood and adjusted his uniform.

Mina thought about pointing out the ridiculousness of making conversation when one was receiving oral sex. "You should say hello to her when she works next."

"You tellin' me what I should do?" His eyes narrowed with a growl.

"I just know she would like that."

oooo

Bridgette unlocked the gray room where a cot, a toilet,. and a sink took up most of the room. Emma was sitting on the cot, reading a book. Bridgette dropped the bowl of food an inch above the floor and beckoned her over for examination. It had been five days since the attack and now Emma appeared fully healed. "You've healed very quickly, is that your mutation?" She questioned.

"Yes, something similar to that." Emma stood in the clothes she had been provided, the closest thing a bordello would have to lounge wear. "The stitches came out last night."

"If I didn't know better, I would say you were eager to get back to work." Bridgette glared suspiciously.

"I'm going mad in this little room." Was her response.

The older woman poked and prodded to see if the other would squirm or wince, but the bruising seemed to have disappeared. "Turn around." The scars on her back had healed, but strangely, the claw marks on her shoulder managed to reappear on her skin, even though McCoy had surely mangled them with his teeth. None the less, they were raised, healed welts, clearly visible.

"Fine." Bridgette responded. "Go take a shower, we'll put you on the pole tonight. Get going, you're already late."


	8. Chapter 8

**Sabretooth and all other Marvel characters belong to Marvel. All others are of my own creation and belong to me.**

**This story is of an alternate reality Age of Apocalypse.**

* * *

Heaven was overly lit. Creed hated it. His suit still fit at least. He crammed himself into a corner booth and hunched over his dinner plate, making it last as long as possible so he could overhear as much conversation as possible.

"What the hell are you eating?" Was it possible to be rid of her for one minute? Candra looked genuinely repulsed by his meal as she walked past in a slinky dress.

"Shrimp scampi...with a steak on it." Sabretooth replied, followed by a large bite.

Looking around, she sat on the booth cushion, right on the edge. "What did Death want with you?"

"My phone number. He wants to get with this." Creed chewed, staring her down.

"Tell me and I'll sleep with you." She proposed, like it was a privilege.

"Only if I can shove a sock down your throat and take you from behind so I don't gotta hear or see you." He countered. Creed wasn't wearing a tie so she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, twisted it in her hand and pulled him close to her in fury.

"Tell me you stupid dog!" Candra hissed.

"Is there a problem here?" Warren, the owner of Heaven, approached the table hoping to dispel the confrontation.

"Yeah, there's a fly in my steak. Get me a new one." Creed pushed his plate toward the edge of the table. Warren frowned but then thought better of himself and took the food away.

Candra released his shirt and stood up angrily. "If you had any sense in that thick skull of yours, you would spill your guts." With her telekinesis she forced his drink to spill down his front, staining his suit.

Creed weighed his options and decided to continue his assignment and punish her impudence later, only to avoid punishment himself. His fresh dinner arrived delivered by Warren, the steak staining his pasta with blood. "Put this second one on Candy's tab, will ya?"

oooo

It was her first night returning to the floor. The pole the night before had been a nice reprieve, but it began to get repetitive after four hours. The good doctor was no where to be seen and she thanked her stars.

Macy was emerging from room seven with a bit of a confused look on her face. She caught Emma's eye but then busied herself at the bar collecting drink orders. Emma met her table and handed out their drinks.

"What was that look for?" She approached the red-head at the bar for a moment's break.

"Did I give you a look?" Macy asked, feigning innocence. Emma decided in retrospect that whatever made her friend confused in the confines of that room, she didn't want to know about it.

"Perhaps not, just seeing something that wasn't there."

"Watch out." Adrian murmured under his breath while ducking his head and slamming two drinks on each of their trays. No one had actually ordered drinks, it was just a signal that Bridgette was staring their way with a mean look and they needed to start looking busy. Macy broke away first and headed down the centre of the floor to the other end of the club. Emma picked up her tray and circled around to the main stage, carrying two glasses of ice water to the girl dancing that night.

"Thank you, sweetie." The woman whom Emma didn't know very well, swooped down from the pole and scooped up one of the glasses like a fluid feline and gave her a predatory wink for the benefit of the men crowding the stage.

Emma blew her a kiss before shimmying her way through the crowd back to the tables. The second glass was plucked from her tray and her wrist was grabbed to pull her around again. An overly confident, rough looking Prelate poured the water over her head, a piece of ice slipping into her bra, causing the cry of surprise. The crowd laughed at her expense.

"Let me get that for you." He grabbed her boob and squeezed, winding a finger around the shoulder strap and was just about to break it when Adrian showed up behind her and grabbed the man's wrist.

"Let's take a walk."

Emma wasn't sure what actually happened, all she knew was that the gruff patron was next lying on the ground with smoke rising from his body, moaning. This caused a second uproar from the crowd in cheers. She pushed through the crowd to run into the change room but Bridgette stopped her halfway there, telling her not to waste time changing and to get back to work.

Emma stomped to the bar and grabbed a handful of paper napkins, dabbing at her cleavage irritably.

"Classy." Came a gruff rumble from a patron leaning against the end of the bar, not interested in the scuffle of trying to get the rude man dragged out to the back of the club.

"Oh shut up." Emma snapped and wiped some wet hair out of her face, only to look up and find Creed staring at her with a tiny, bemused look.

"Looks like I missed th' party."

"If by party you mean some jackass throwing water all over me." Emma tried to regain some composure and threw away the wet napkins. "We're closing in an hour, is there anything I can get you?"

"Naw." Creed shook his head and turned to head toward the door. Over his shoulder he said, "Just came to say hi."


End file.
